stormy weather (dreamnotfound)

chapter 8 - disoriented

lots of angst oop but then a surprising introduction AHHHBSUYGHTDJGRDN im fine :DD

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The quiet, constant beeping of the heart monitor greeted me when I opened my eyes. The harsh lighting flooded my vision, sending ripples of pain through my eyes. I adjusted to it quickly, and turned my head lightly to the side, feeling pressure pound down on my head like an avalanche. I screwed up my face, my hands gripping the thin hospital sheets. I relaxed after a few moments when the initial pain had subsided, and took a shaky breath.

"George?" a sweet voice called from across the room, and I heard shuffling for a moment before Niki appeared at my side.

"Mum," I hummed sleepily. "What's happening?"

She sighed and reached for my hand, feeling the warmth of her grasp heat up my sickly body.

"I don't know, baby. He wouldn't tell me," she replied.

"Who?"

"Clay," she said quickly, rubbing her thumb over my knuckles gently.

"Clay?" I gasped, feeling my throat tighten. I tried to sit up to speak better but she pushed me back down, fluffing my pillow behind me and placing her hand on my chest.

"Lay down, George. You're not stable enough to sit up yet."

I nodded and relaxed into the pillow. "You know who he is?" I asked, swallowing thickly against my dry throat.

"Thank God," she muttered. "They said you might not remember anything."

I pressed my lips together and felt sudden tears threaten to spill over. That was my other fear I had forgotten to mention to Clay.

Amnesia. Not remembering who you are, your life, your family, it's just gone. And it would be even worse for that to happen to someone close to you. Imagine your sibling, your spouse, your best friend- imagine them waking up one day, after weeks of being in a coma, and when they open their eyes you're standing right next to them, holding their hand, and they ask who you are.

All of your memories together. All of the laughs you had. All of the happy moments and things that made them who they are, just- gone. And there's nothing you can do to make them remember.

I took another shaky breath as I gripped her hand harder.
"I remember, mum."

She collapsed onto my chest, I felt her whole body tremble as she sobbed. Her cries of relief engulfed the silence that once filled the hospital room, and I couldn't even sit up to hold her. I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing, trying to keep it together for her sake.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, running my hand over her head. She looked up, wiping her tears with her sleeve, furrowing her brows in confusion.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you about not liking this life. I'm sorry for not listening to you when you told me not to smoke, I-I'm just.. lost." I tore my gaze from hers and turned my aching head away, looking into the bright light that poured down above my head. She grabbed my hand again and forced me to look at her.

"I'm sorry, too. I haven't been the best mother either, and I understand why you feel that way. I'm glad you said something, sweetie." her voice fell into a whisper at the end of her sentence, and I felt a tear trickle down my cheek as I smiled weakly. She released her hand from mine and brought her hand to my face, wiping the tear away with her thumb. I closed my eyes again, feeling a small fire of hope start to burn in my chest.

I felt the presence of another being enter the room, and I looked up into my father's eyes. Wilbur stood with tear streaks on his cheeks, one hand on my mother's back. His usual bright spirits were dampened, his posture was slacked and he wore no crown. He gave me a soft smile and I returned it, feeling my shoulders sink into the bed.